


Lucid

by wysteryas (echaryn)



Category: SHINee
Genre: Angst, Drama, Emotional Hurt, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Smut, Foreplay, Friends to Lovers, Heartache, M/M, Making Out, Misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-16
Updated: 2018-11-21
Packaged: 2019-08-24 11:59:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16639661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/echaryn/pseuds/wysteryas
Summary: Taemin's heart is parched, arid of emotion. No, that is a lie. Truth be told, his heart is doing overtime, working him to exhaustion, wearing him done in ways his work could never do. Every time he sees this person, the person who holds his heart and doesn't even know it - every time he sees him, his chest grows tighter, and his heart cracks a little more. Every time he sees him smile and every time he makes that smile disappear with another uncaring comment Taemin's heart breaks a little more. But Minho doesn't know that, his friend and band member doesn't know that Taemin is aching with longing and the knowledge that his love is unrequited and unknown.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone,
> 
> I am back with a new 2min story. Thank you so much for the amazing comments I got for "Radiant". I was so happy about it and super eager to write more for this incredible fandom. I hope you like the first chpater to my new story. I promise next chapter will have E-rated content.
> 
> Without further ado, please enjoy x

**Taemin**

 

Really sometimes... he thinks it would be easier if he could just tell his heart to stop working. Go on a holiday for once. Take a few weeks off. Anything, honestly, to give him a few moments of peace.

But alas.

It's not how it works.

He looks into the mirror at the opposite side of the practice room. He judges the dark shadows beneath his eyes telling the story of how he'd stayed up late again, rolling around in his bed and pondering the same whirlwind of questions he's been dealing with for the past few months. He sighs and glances at the time. It's way past midnight. Time to leave.

He grabs his bag and makes his way to the door, but he's just about to touch the knob when it swings open – and he nearly runs into the solid chest of his band member and friend.

He freezes, his breath stuck in the back of his throat.

“Wah – Taemin, you're still here?” Minho asks with genuine surprise in his voice. He sounds raspy from the long day, and his words are heavy from fatigue.

Taemin's heart stumbles inside his chest, like it has done for the past few months in which he's watched and suffered and waited all on his own, his feelings hidden inside his aching chest.

“Yeah, well... I'm about to leave now.”

“I'll drive you.”

“No!”

He is surprised about his outburst, but in all honesty the last thing he wants now is to be confined in a small space with the very person who is now standing before him, and whose eyes, usually so gentle and warm, widen at his sudden display of agitation. His smile wavers a bit.

“Uhm, you don't have to, of course, I was just asking...”

Taemin chews on his tongue and then tries a shaky smile. “I mean, thank you, but I'll take a cab.”

Minho doesn't look convinced yet. “Are you sure? It's late.”

He nods with emphasis and digs his hands into his pockets. “Yeah, I'll be fine. But thanks anyway.”

Minho looks at him for a moment that lasts too long, his eyes have turned a hue darker, and somewhat colder than before. He looks like he wants to say more, like there's still a novel filled with questions on his tongue, but then he just sighs and grabs the strap of his bag tighter.

“Alright. Get home safely.”

“You, too,” Taemin murmurs lamely. It's so difficult to look at him.

“...Good night.”

“Night,” he echoes and Minho is out of the room.

He swallows a curse and then slams his back against the closed door. God, fuck this – this is just a mess, no matter how he turns it in his mind. He looks into the mirror again. A lonely man stares back at him, with hollow cheeks and deep shadows chasing his eyes. He shakes his head. When did things begin to go so wrong?

Right from the start, it seems.

Looking back, it's a blur, heavy rain on the wind shield, the running engine being swallowed by a thunder storm. It was just like that, in the blink of an eye, when things had changed, and yet it took Taemin ages to notice. And to recognise. That crazy, unnecessary and idiotic stumbling of his heart, this absolutely stupid fluttering he'd feel every time he'd see his hyung, when he was close to him, when he'd hug him or smile at him or have him near.

Taemin's stupid little heart had messed everything up, everything that had been meant to go nicely and well – it had ruined everything, in more ways than one. And now he's here, stuck in an in-between, in an uncertain realm of bitterness and tender-hearted affection hidden behind a wall of cold, feigned indifference.

It's a toxic mix, and it eats away at him with every passing second.

Ignoring it hadn't helped, quite the opposite, his ignored feelings had increased tenfold, until he'd thought his ribs would break under the weight of too many emotions being locked away in there.

And now he tries to stay away. He tries to create distance. He tries to avoid him. But it's so difficult, because they're band members, they're colleagues, they're friends – their lives are interwoven in so many ways, it's near impossible to keep away from him. How can he act against that, when work and habit and friendship pull them back together, when their very own gravitation that is only geared toward another drags him back close as soon as he strays too far. God, it's difficult to keep his distance when it hurts so much and also, when he really doesn't want to, despite what his reason tells him.

He rubs his tired eyes. His chest aches at the thought of Minho. At the thought of him in his car now, probably wondering why Taemin didn't want to ride with him. At the thought of Minho being disappointed and saddened yet again because of him, like he's been so many times in the past few hellish weeks and months.

He stares at his phone. Should he text him? Find an excuse to ease his worries?

No, Minho would be even more concerned.

Instead, he should just finally call a cab and go home. He needs to sleep. Although sleep won't change what's going on, although it won't change his situation in the slightest, at least it'll make him forget about it all for a few blissful hours until reality reminds him again as soon as he wakes up to another day being hopelessly in love with his friend.

 

********

 

There's quite a number of people that have told him something that has since been drifting through his mind like a fog, like the shadow of a thought. He's had a tough time wrapping his head around the fact but it seems that, well... people seem to _like_ him, especially when he dances. They say that Taemin is able to draw people in, to enchant them and make them _want_ him, in any way possible.

Well, it seems true enough, given the countless advances both men and women have made on him. Given the fact that one of his back-up dancers is eyeing him in the mirror right now, in a way that goes way past professional attention. No, at this point Taemin can recognise a person's _interest_. Someone's _desire_. He's seen it in many eyes already, he's heard it in countless ways, in every way you can tell someone that you want them.

He's heard it so often, he has mesmerised so many people in the past, he is also doing it in the present. He's drawing them in, bewitching them as soon as they lay their eyes on him. It's part of his magic and it works on his fans, it works on normal people, it works on everyone he wants to enrapture and captivate.

Except on one, it seems.

He swivels his hips around in a sinful manner as he practices his old Press Your Number routine. The part after the first chorus, when he spreads his legs and moves his pelvis in suggestive circles usually has the fans screaming like there's no tomorrow. Well, it would be a lie if Taemin said it wasn't a decent ego boost, because obviously it is. And truth be told... when he'd performed knowing that his band members were in the audience, he'd exaggerated it even a bit more, he'd moved even more lasciviously to the point his manager would tell him to tone it down on TV broadcasts since kids could be watching.

He'd hoped...thought that perhaps a certain someone would get the hint. That this person would look at him and would feel emotion blazing through his veins and desire pooling in his stomach. But alas. Taemin's attempts had been futile.

He sighs when his solo dance practice is over. The dancer comes over, they start to chat and not even Taemin is dense enough to not notice the obvious flirtation. But he doesn't reciprocate and makes it fairly clear that he's not interested. Quite dejected the guy takes his leave soon and Taemin is left alone.

Taemin stares at the door through which the guy has disappeared. It's late again; the hour calls him home. He grabs his bag and walks over. In a tiny corner of his heart he wishes Minho would come through the door again and offer him a ride, with that small hopeful smile on his handsome face that warms Taemin's heart like fire. He wishes, he waits. But as he opens the door, nothing but a flickering light and an empty hallway guide him to the exit.

There's no one here.

 

********

 

His fingers are numb from hours playing computer games, his mouse is probably on the verge of breaking. He stares at his screen, his hungry stomach calling for his attention. When he checks the time he realises that he's wasted the day away competing in virtual arenas to avoid the forlorn battle inside his heart. Also he has a few missed calls and unread messages. He scrolls through them, he types quick replies, sends a few emoticons – and then he reads Minho-hyung's name and his heart sinks even lower than he thought was humanly possible.

His thumb hovers above the chat. But then he throws his phone aside and rubs his burning eyes. He can imagine why Minho texted him. He's probably asking how he's doing and if he's ok and whether Taemin is mad at him because of something he's done.

It's just so Minho. Looking for the error within himself, not within others. To him, others are always the priority, his friends whom he treats with the utmost kindness and affection. Taemin wishes his friend would treat himself the same. Or at least he wishes Minho didn't believe that he's the reason Taemin is being such a jerk. But he knows his hyung doesn't work that way.

He sighs and stands up with stiff legs and arms. He rolls his shoulders. It's dark outside already, the sun has long gone down.

 

********

 

He sits on a bench and lets his dogs chase each other across the dark lawn. It's somewhat past midnight, and he didn't know better than to take his pets for a late walk to a nearby park. He sees a few joggers and other pet owners, but no one bothers him, no one is close enough to disrupt his tranquil misery. He rubs his eyes. His sleeping schedule is fucked as it is. Might as well stay here a bit longer.

He is so absorbed in his thoughts that he doesn't notice a person approaching, but when said person slumps down next to him, he flinches. A familiar dog sniffs his ankles and he calms down instantly.

“What are you doing here?” Taemin asks with a raised brow, his hand gently patting Garçon 's head.

“I could ask the same,” Key answers nonchalantly, his eyes trained on his two dogs who now run to play with Taemin's pets.

“I'm fine,” Taemin says lamely.

“We both know you suck at lying,” Key replies theatrically and rolls his eyes. “Try again.”

He keeps silent, chewing on his words, and he's there, he's nearly ready to say something- fucking finally after countless months – when Key beats him to it.

“Something's going on with you. And, whether related to this or not, Minho thinks you have a problem with him.”

“I don't have a problem with him!” he says with such impulsive indignation the dogs look at him. He clears his throat. “Seriously, we're fine.”

“Well, he clearly has a different perception,” Key replies with furrowed brows and a look of pure disbelief gracing his features. “He told me that you guys haven't really talked in weeks.”

“That's not true -”

“And that he feels like you don't want to be near him anymore. And honestly? It does seem that way, from what I see,” Key interrupts.

That shuts him up and he keeps silent, his gaze locked on the animals playing around not far from them. His chest feels so wounded, so raw. His heart throbs inside his chest, like an infected wound, all weeping and festering. His throat is tight, filled with too many words he wants to say and yet he doesn't dare to let into this world.

“So?” Key asks after a few moments of silence.

“So what?”

“Well, what is going on with you?” Key asks and now impatience enters his voice. “Did something happen?”

“Nothing.”

Key lets out a swear and then the guy moves around until he faces him. He actually looks annoyed now, and Taemin knows why, he's being a brat, obviously, and Key is Minho's best friend. The two may usually annoy the hell out of each other, but Taemin knows that Key is hella protective over Minho. Taemin's half-hearted explanations won't do, not tonight. He sighs internally and curses his decision to step foot outside.

“Listen, hyung...”

“Did something happen between Minho and you? He thinks you're mad at him, but he can't tell what it is that has you so upset, otherwise he would've long apologised already,” Key says angrily.

“And seriously, I don't think Minho could ever _do_ something to you that makes you behave like a dick for three months straight. So what the fuck is going on, Lee Taemin? And don't you dare lie to me again,” Key adds with fumes coming out from between his teeth, his eyes spewing fire at him.

Taemin feels his skin crawling. He's hardly ever seen Key so upset. It stays silent for a very long time. And then...

“I'm not mad at Minho-hyung.”

“A relief.”

“But...,” he starts, but stops. He takes a deep breath, his fingers claw into his jeans. The thoughts tumble over in his head, the words that have been inside there are just dying to get out – but he's afraid.

Actually, he's really terrified.

“I...I can't be...right now, it's...” He sighs. “I think...maybe it's best if I don't see him for a while?”

“Why?”

He helplessly shrugs. Key eyes him up and down. His dark eyes speak volumes. It's silent between them, the unspoken words hover above them like the precursor of a storm.

And then it seems that Key understands, although understanding is the wrong word, because Taemin prays he'll never have to experience such a feeling in his life – but recognition settles in his gaze, paired with sadness.

“He's your friend. And your working colleague. And your band member.”

“I KNOW!” he barks and once more the dogs stop in their tracks to look at him. He continues, in a hushed voice that is so bad at hiding his pain: “Listen, I know, and that's why I try to stay away, ok?”

“He'll be hurt.”

“Well but what the fuck else am I supposed to do, hyung?” Taemin asks and he means to sound angry, to sound mad, but actually his voice quivers with such grave sadness he feels the tears start to itch in the corners of his eyes.

God, this fucking hurts. This is such a mess.

“...What am I supposed to do?” he repeats.

Key sighs deeply. “I don't know. Talk to him?” he says, but he sounds as doubtful as Taemin feels.

“Yeah, right,” Taemin replies, his voice dripping with biting sarcasm.

“Well, you can't keep going like this.”

“Watch me.”

“I'm serious. At the end of the day you still have to work with him,” Key says, rubbing his eyes. “And if you got an issue with him, it'll affect the entire band.”

He doesn't reply. An idea already manifests in his head, a bad, bad idea starts to blossom in his lovesick mind. He knows he needs to stay the hell away from Minho, he knows he'll hurt his hyung – but if that's the only way to fucking finally fall out of love with him, then so be it. He can't keep going like this. This is eating him up from the inside, every day, every minute, every goddamn second he has to spend with the man in the same room.

He loves him more than anything, and it's the most devastating feeling Taemin's heart has ever had to deal with. He's at a loss. Running away seems to be the best option.

The only option at this point.

So he lets Key talk, his hyung doesn't even notice that his mind is drifting away, and by the time they say goodbye, Taemin's head is cleared. He'll just treat himself to a a week or two away. His members can do schedules and shit without him. He needs some time to glue the little pieces of his stupid broken heart back together.

So might as well do that in Japan.

********

**Minho**

 

The interviewer asks where Taemin is. Jinki-hyung replies that he has had other overlapping appointments, so he couldn't make it. Minho feels Key's gaze resting on him, but he ignores his best friend and also the growing sense of uneasiness building inside him. He smiles instead, he answers the questions directed at him, he cracks a few jokes and tries to be his usual self. But it's difficult.

It hurts. In an odd, bizarre way it hurts.

He's tried to text him, call him, he's send a dozen voice messages – but he hasn't gotten a single reply. Well, if Taemin wants to be alone, then it's perfectly understandable...but even before he went on his vacation, Minho has felt that something between them had been off. And he wonders...if it's anything he's done, if Taemin is angry with him, but no matter how often he turns it around in his head, he can't find a single reason why the younger man would be so mad at him.

He sighs deeply as he is in the dressing room and pulls his own clothes back on. The clock on the wall announces that it's past 8pm. They don't have any more appointments today, so they can all go home.

“You ok?” Jinki asks him.

He nods absent-mindedly and smiles at the older man: “Yeah, sure.”

“You going back to the dorm now?”

He considers, it, but then shakes his head: “I'll be home late.”

“Alright. See you later then.”

The oldest member heads out first, and leaves Minho and Key in an anxious silence only heightened by the absence of Taemin usually goofy self. Key is Minho's best friend, they know each other more than well – maybe too well – so Minho can tell that his friend wants to talk with him. And he guesses that it's related to their maknae, one way or another. Dread settles in his stomach. His fingers twist around his car keys and the clanking of metal is so loud in his ears.

What if he actually _has_ done something to Taemin without knowing? And now the younger is mad at him and he doesn't even have the chance to apologise because Taemin won't talk with him -

“It's not your fault Taemin went on vacation,” Key drops into the silence and for a moment Minho is stunned.

“You sure?” he asks after a moment.

Suddenly, Key looks tired and he exhales deeply, resting back against one of the tables. “Yeah, we talked before he left. It's not because he's mad at you or anything.”

Something about the way he's phrased that information rubs Minho the wrong way. He fixes his friend, his brows furrowing. “But it _has_ something to do with me?”

Key keeps silent. His face is unreadable.

“Key?”

“I can't tell you.”

Minho grimaces. “Fuck's sake Key, this is not funny anymore.”

“Am I laughing? I trying to say that you should ask him yourself.”

“He doesn't reply to any of my messages! So what am I supposed to do?”

Key remains silent, his gaze fixed on the carpet before him. His shoulders are drawn up unhappily, and he has a strange aura of frustration about him that has Minho surprised. He'd been in a fairly good mood the entire day, but now he looks as annoyed as Minho feels.

“...Any idea why he's acting the way he is?” Key finally asks with a sigh, and the way the question hangs in the room between them, Minho takes it as a clear sign that he has _obviously_ been missing something integral to the whole situation. He frowns.

“...No?”

Key lets out a soft curse and then he lifts a hand to run his fingers through his hair. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone.

“Man this is so....ok listen, he's in Tokyo right now, at this address. I'll send you the location. Go and talk to him.”

“Wha – wait, Key, I can't just go to Japan just to – no!”

“Yes you can and you should,” Key says with a rare fierceness to his words. They look at each other. “For everyone's sake, please go and talk to him.”

“To bring him back home?”

“No, just to – aaargh, Minho, seriously, trust me. Just go and talk to him.”

He is about to reply when his phone buzzes with Key's incoming message containing Taemin's location in Tokyo. He stares at the address for a second, his heart tumbling inside his chest. His head is so muddled up, he's so concerned and confused and he just wants to make sure everything is ok between Taemin and him – but travelling to Tokyo, when the boy obviously wants to be away from everyone?

He takes a deep breath and then shakes his head. “I need to think about this.”

“But don't take too long,” Key mumbles and turns around to grab his coat. “I think it's urgent. He doesn't see it that way, but I do. You guys need to talk.”

 

********

 

He feels like a complete fool as he steps out of the plane two days later, welcomed by Haneda airport staff that politely show him the way. Flying business does have its perks, so it doesn't take long for him to clear customs and step onto familiar ground that is the biggest airport in Tokyo.

He's been here so many times, usually accompanied by his band members. Now he's here on his own, incognito, missing schedules and appointments to talk to their maknae to finally understand what's going on with him.

He shakes his head thinking about it. This is insane.

He pulls a face mask over his nose and his cap deep into his face as he makes his way to the cabs. Thankfully no one stops him, talks with him – the never-ending crowd of travellers see him as one of them, and hardly spare him more than a brief, disinterested glance. He's grateful. As much as he loves meeting their fans, he prefers no one recognising him right now.

Apparently Taemin short-rented an apartment in Ginza. Minho does have a reservation in a hotel in Shibuya, but he wants to see Taemin first. It's evening; time says 9:30 pm and the traffic has slowed down, although there are still masses and masses of people out. The cab takes him through more or less familiar streets into a quieter neighbourhood. Then it stops.

Minho pays the fare and thanks the driver. He watches how the car vanishes behind the next corner and he turns around, looking up at an expensive-looking apartment complex. Taemin should be somewhere on the 9th floor. He grips his bag tighter.

Truth be told he has no idea how Taemin will react. He'll most likely be surprised...and then probably annoyed, because Minho is here, despite Taemin's efforts to be alone and away from his band members, and he'll likely be angry with Key, because Key told Minho his location.

He sighs deeply and stops walking. This is supposedly the right apartment. He looks up and down the corridor. No one in sight. His heart is small inside his chest, and he feels a rare nervousness starting to make his nerves flutter and for a moment his courage falters and the doubt is back, alongside his ever-present dread and a heartbreaking second he wants to walk away again, and leave things as they are. But then he pulls himself together and shakes his head. This definitely hasn't happened in a while. He takes a deep breath and rings the doorbell.

The seconds drop away like rain, he can't hear anything. He hesitates a second, before he rings again. No reply. He knocks.

“Taemin, it's me, please open the door.”

“ _What are you doing here?!”_ a familiar voice asks behind him, and every single word is just underlined by so much anger that he flinches. Minho jerks around only to find himself face to face with their youngest band member.

Taemin stares at him, half his face hidden behind a black mask and yet Minho can tell that his mouth is forming an annoyed line and his brows are drawn together in a frown. He sighs internally. Here they go.

“Listen -”

“Did Key-hyung tell you that I'm here?” Taemin asks angrily. He drops the bags – looks like he went on a shopping spree up and down Omotesando – and fumbles his phone out of his pocket.

“Taemin, listen, I'm just -”

But Taemin doesn't listen, he just angrily swipes his thumb over the display and starts typing, probably an angry message directed at Key. Minho bites his lip and then shuffles closer.

“Taemin, I'm just here because I think we should talk,” he tries it in a calm, collected voice.

“Why? We're fine,” Taemin grits out and avoids his gaze.

Minho narrows his eyes and comes even closer. “Look at me and repeat that.”

Taemin glares up at him, but he remains silent and instead stuff his phone back into his pocket and he grabs his bags.

“Go home,” he mumbles and walks up to the door to unlock it.

“Not happening,” Minho replies and he tries to keep his irritation at bay.

Taemin marches inside, but leaves the door open behind him. Well, not like Minho expected the younger man to close the door in his face. But Taemin can be a real brat sometimes. He follows him inside and drops his bag next to the door.

“Seriously, go home,” Taemin repeats, and he sounds tired now.

He throws his bags onto the sofa and turns around to him, the face mask now gone. He looks pale, even more so than back in Seoul, and deep shadows accentuate his reddish eyes and hollow cheeks. He looks ill and Minho's heart bleeds.

_What is going on with you...?_

He'll try it gently.

“Taemin, just talk to me -”

“Go home!”

“No, see, I –”

“No, I am here because I don't want to talk with anyone!” Taemin barks. “Is that so hard to understand?!”

“Ok what the hell did I do that you're so cold to me?” Minho explodes. Taemin blinks and opens his mouth, but Minho won't let him talk. “You act like you fucking hate me and this has been going on for months – fuck - Taemin, _why?!_ What did I do that you're so angry with me? Just tell me and we can talk about it!” Minho bellows and as soon as he is done, he curses himself.

So much for trying the gentle and slow way.

Taemin is silent and Minho takes a deep breath, calming his mind. “Please, just...talk to me, Taemin.”

Taemin looks at him, and his expression...Minho can't read it, it's so confusing, his act, his face, his whole demeanour, none of it makes sense to him. He honestly has no idea what's going on with his friend, and he hates it. He wants Taemin to be happy and well, but right now he is a walking pile of misery and it angers Minho, as much as it worries him. Just...what is going on with him? And why won't he speak with Minho about it? They've never had secrets from each other, so why now...?

“I...You can't help me, hyung,” Taemin finally says with a sigh.

“How would you know?”

“I just,” he starts, exasperated, but then he stops. He runs a hand through his hair and shakes his head. “You won't understand.”

“I will if you explain it to me,” he replies and comes closer, until he stands right before him.

Taemin doesn't move away, but he also doesn't seem happy about the closer proximity now. The younger man continues to avoid his gaze and looks to the ground. “You can tell me anything, Taemin. You know that.”

“...Not everything.”

“Why do you suddenly think that?” Minho wants to know.

It hurts so much, this is just too freaking painful to watch. He can clearly see that Taemin is in distress, something bad is going on, and Minho just wants to help, but Taemin won't let him, and he feels helpless and useless. He's Taemin's hyung, he's his friend, they've been close ever since their trainee days, so where does this sudden abyss come from? Since when...? When did Taemin stop trusting him and relying on him?

“...This isn't something you can help me with,” Taemin says tiredly. “So please just...just leave me be, I'll work things out.”

“What – did someone say shit to you? Was someone mean to you?!”

“No! No, listen...it's... the problem is me.”

Taemin curses in a low voice and then walks a few steps through the living room, before he turns back to him. “Not our manager or anyone. Not my parents. Not you.”

He walks around the sofa and slumps down. The seconds stretch, a minute of awkward silence settles in the room, before Minho decides to walk around the sofa and crouch down in front of the younger man. His aches to see him this sad, this lost.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Minho asks in a low voice.

“No.”

“Do you really not want to talk about it – whatever it is? Really, I'll listen – just – talk to me, Taemin.”

Their eyes lock.

 

********

 

**Taemin**

 

Everything in him screams to tell him, to finally let the other man in on his thoughts, his feelings, the words are on his tongue, all ready – but then he remains silent and he physically feels his heart crack inside his chest. He can't say it. He just can't. He wouldn't be able to stand Minho's gaze becoming shocked and then pitiful, he wouldn't be able to hear Minho's apologies, although the man has nothing to apologise for, he wouldn't be able to stand when Minho started to avoid his touch, his gaze, his proximity...

He can't. So he prefers to hold onto that fragile friendship of theirs, to keep Minho in his life. However painful it may be.

He's so close, too close, and now his hand is on Taemin's knee, all reassuring and too hot and too pitiful and Taemin wishes he had the strength to slap it away. Minho doesn't know how much it hurts, he has no idea how every second being close to him is a knife to Taemin's heart.

“Talk to me, Taemin. I'm here.” God, his voice...dark, warm, trustworthy... Taemin loves his voice, but right now his words are poison and weaken Taemin with every moment more.

“...You...you will look at me differently, if I tell you,” he finally manages to choke out.

Minho offers him a wry smile. “I doubt it.”

He looks at Minho, and the familiar, handsome face is clouded by worry, the kind gaze is fixed on him and Taemin sees nothing but concern and adoration in his beautiful eyes. He feels his resolve begin to crack like brittle wood.

“I...it's...” He takes a deep breath. “I don't know what to do.”

“About what?”

“...I'm...I can't be with...”

“With someone? Wait, you like someone?”

_God, if you only knew..._

“Kinda...”

Minho's eyes become big and for a fleeting moment there is something dark in his eyes, something oddly cold and biting and Taemin is surprised, but then the flicker of winter is gone and Minho's expression is back to normal.

“Then...why can't you be with that person?” Minho asks.

He sounds genuinely surprised and confused about it and Taemin wishes his hyung could just calculate the answer on his own – but why the fuck would Minho even guess that Taemin is in love with him? No one in their right mind would guess that their year-long friend and band member has suddenly developed an unhealthy crush on them.

Well, if he puts it like that, it's even more insane. He doesn't know what to say, so he shrugs and just looks at Minho. They're both silent for a moment, and Minho's brows draw together.

“Do I know that person? Who is it?”

Taemin has lost all words left in him, so he just drops his gaze and instead stares at Minho's large hand still gently resting on his knee. The seconds pass by. A minute washes across them. And then...

“Taemin...” And from his voice Taemin can tell that he finally _understands_.

And the hand is gone as he jumps up and without a word he rushes out of the apartment, in his socks, his phone clasped in his hand and the invisible shards of his heart following his path.

He hears Minho's voice calling his name, but he doesn't stop as he rushes away, aimless, blind, with the pounding of his broken heart like thunder in his ears. He doesn't cry, no – but his limbs are trembling and he looks down at his chest, because he thinks this pain is so intense there should be a physical wound somewhere on him, from which blood is soaking through. But there's no blood, no wound, no bones, just a gaping emptiness filled with sadness in his heart.

At some point he stops in a near-by park, and after a short search he finds a bench and slumps down on it, the misery bearing down on him like a ton. He looks around, half expecting to see Minho, but apparently his hyung gave up the chase. Probably for the best.

He sees two missed calls from Key and five from Minho. He hesitates for a second, but then he puts his phone away, buries his face in his palms and closes his eyes. He doubts that he'll get any sleep tonight.

 

********

 

He returns hours later, with icy feet and blue lips. He kinda expects Minho to be gone, but then he thinks otherwise. It's Minho – of course he's still there and waiting for him to come back, and also he didn't bring his keys or anything. He sighs and takes the lift up to the 9th floor. He isn't surprised when he returns and sees light leaking into the corridor from underneath the door. The door is unlocked and with hanging shoulders he enters.

He looks up and sees Minho standing there, leaned against the kitchen counter, his phone in his hand. From his face Taemin can see that he wants to scold him – probably for running away like an idiot, possibly for Taemin's asshole behaviour the past few months – but then his hyung just sighs and shakes his head. The older man walks to the sofa and grabs one of the blankets there. He walks over and hands it to Taemin.

“You look like you're freezing.”

“You should leave.” he says instead of a thank you. He just... right now his entire existence is a heartbreak and being near Minho, hearing his voice, seeing his face – it only adds to the pain.

“Taemin, we should talk -”

“No, I want to be alone” he interrupts forcefully. He sees the worry in his hyung's face and closes his eyes to it. “Please.”

He walks away from him, puts some space between them, so at least he can breathe again. Minho follows him, but keeps his distance. Of course.

“Listen, I don't want to hurt you -”

“Then stay away from me!” Taemin barks and immediately he regrets it, but there's no taking back his words now. He just stares at the older man for a second and then turns his gaze away once more, as he sees the blatant hurt and sadness on Minho's face. “Please. Hyung.”

Minho looks at him for a long moment, his eyes unreadable, but then his shoulders drop and he exhales slowly. He turns around and grabs his bag.

“Alright.”

Taemin bites his lip as he watches the older man march to the door to slip his shoes on. Maybe Minho waits for him to tell him to stay, perhaps he is waiting for Taemin to change his mind. And yes, Taemin wants to say it, wants to sooth Minho's worry and confusion. But then again, his heart is weak. So he remains silent.

“...Let's talk tomorrow?” Minho tries again, because he's too good for this world.

“...” Taemin has no words left for him. Not tonight.

They look at each other one last time and then Minho is out of the door.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone,
> 
> thank you so much for the lovely comments and reviews that reached me here and on tumblr. 
> 
> I hope you like this chapter!
> 
> Please enjoy!

**Minho**

 

His thoughts are a swarm of mosquitoes sucking his very soul from inside him. His heart throbs painfully and his chest is so tight he has to fight air into his lungs and back out. The clock announces nearly seven in the morning. He has barely slept half an hour in total.

Images circle inside his head, whenever he closes his eyes he sees one person before him, a dearly loved person, the very person who is now the reason for his inner turmoil. In his head Taemin is smiling at him, his eyes glow with that fire he loves and admires so much, he looks happy and relaxed and well-rested – and then a second later, Minho sees the misery so evident in his eyes, and the heartbreak written across his face, and his smile wiped away from his ashen face.

Minho grimaces. Whenever he recalls their earlier conversation, his heart aches more.

He turns on his back. He's still in the process of understanding that Taemin...likes him? In a romantic sense? He frowns and turns to his other side. It's so complicated to wrap his head around the fact. It's just...he's never, not in a million years, thought that it would be possible. That Taemin would ever feel that way about him.

But now that Minho knows that he does...he is questioning his own heart.

Well, it's not like Minho has never thought about it. It's not like he's never fantasized about what it would be _like_ , and more than once he's wondered about his own feelings toward their youngest member– but he's never thought that his secret thoughts would ever have a chance at becoming reality.

It's not like he'd purposefully ignored his feelings. It's more that he'd forgotten about them, since just being with Taemin and enjoying his company already made him happy beyond belief. Their dynamic had always been perfect, so he'd never given the “what if” much thought.

Well, but now...

He sighs. He admits, his heart did a small, jealous leap when he'd asked who Taemin liked. Of course he'd successfully pushed the ugly sentiment back down into the deepest caverns of his soul, but truth be told, he'd felt an incredible jealousy rising like poison inside of him, only to be relieved a few moments later, and exchanged for heartbreaking misery.

But Minho is still shocked about himself. Was he...actually jealous? That Taemin might like someone else?

_Do I like him...?_

Well, of course he likes him. They've been friends for ages, they've known each other since before debut, he has essentially seen Taemin growing up and becoming the talented, wonderful, handsome and silly man he is now. He is a huge part of Minho's life and Minho knows that he loves him in every sense of the word, except for the romantic association, that usually goes hand in hand with the connotation of “love”.

He rubs his eyes. Although...is he actually sure about that?

He can't tell.

He sees his display lighting up with an incoming call from Key. He answers it and just briefly tells his friend about last night's events. Key sounds exasperated, but not surprised, so he's probably expected something like this already. They end the call soon and Minho drops the gadget back onto the night stand. His head is a mess. He needs sleep, he needs time to collect his thoughts, but most of all he needs to talk to Taemin again.

 

********

 

About twelve hours later he finds himself back in front of Taemin's apartment. He's not even sure if Taemin is there, but he rings the doorbell nevertheless and waits. Truth be told, he's nervous. And it's so silly when he thinks about it, because he's known him for so long and they're so close, but...the fact that Taemin apparently harbours romantic feelings for Minho...does something to him.

He can't explain it, or rather...he just can't put it into words. But his heart is beating so fast like he's about to run a marathon, his skin feels tight and too small for him, there are too many emotions inside and his body is not enough to contain them.

God, what even is going on with him now?

He shakes his head. Well, it's probably obvious why his feelings are a stormy mess inside of him. It's just that he is lacking the words and means to make sense of them as of now.

The seconds pass by, but then he hears foot steps and the door swings open, to reveal their maknae, dressed casually in an over-sized sweater and joggers. He looks tired and his face only darkens as his eyes come to rest on Minho.

Oh well.

“...What?” Taemin sighs.

“I think we should talk.”

“About what?” Taemin asks sourly and tries a grin that is more a pained grimace. “Now you know. What is there to talk about?”

Minho is about to reply, but then the younger man just shakes his head and the door begins to close. “You know what, I can't do this -”

Minho's hand slams against the door. “Wait, Taemin, listen.”

“Hyung, seriously -”

“Who said it's one-sided?” Minho asks without breathing.

Taemin stares at him, and there's so much confusion on his face, and borderline anger, and sadness...but also a brief flicker of hope that immediately vanishes as Taemin's brows draw together in a disapproving frown.

“Go home,” he growls at him and slams the door close.

 

********

 

**Taemin**

 

He looks like shit and he's well aware of that. His phone buzzes once again with an incoming call from one of their managers, Youngmin-hyung. He ignores it. He knows his manager wants to know when he's coming home, he's missing important schedules and meetings – but Taemin can't even begin to think about work right now. Well, it's not like he's not doing anything, he practices everyday for several hours and tries to perfect choreographies that fans think are already perfect, to surprise his fans once his new solo activities start.

He even tried writing lyrics again. He's bad at it, but not as hopeless anymore as he used to be. In that way he's being productive, although his heart is not in it. In none of the things he's doing.

He knows he's being selfish. And he will make it up to his band members and his company, of course. But right now...he just needs to be away from Minho. As far away as possible. Which is impossible, as ridiculous as it is, because for idols distance is relative. However, emotionally speaking, Taemin indeed did a great fucking job to push him as far away as possible.

His heart bleeds as he recalls the events of the last two nights. Minho's face when he'd finally understood everything – when he'd finally recognised Taemin's lovesick demeanour for what it is. And yesterday, how he'd turned up at his doorstep again – and igniting a little flame of hope inside Taemin's chest. For a mere second, a heartbeat, until Taemin had slammed the door close in his face like the asshole he is.

Ah fuck.

He grimaces and rubs over his aching chest. But then he shakes his head and focusses on the music again.

He's booked an empty practice room and he's been here for the past...five hours already. But not even the music beating from the speakers drowns out the chaos in his head. At some point his limbs are shaking and he sinks down against the wall, his aching legs stretched out before him and his chest heaving. His shirt is soaked with sweat. A low grumbling reminds him that he hasn't eaten yet today. He sighs. He is hungry but has no appetite. A bad combination.

He lifts his phone to his face. He sees a dozen missed calls from Minho-hyung. He throws the gadget back into his bag. It's not...it's not like he wants things to be like this. Hell, everything in him wants to talk to the older man, he wants things between them to be ok again, he wants that so fucking _badly_ – but not like this.

Not the way he is right now.

He hates that he is the one who made things turn so terrible. Taemin is well aware that if it wasn't for his lack of self-control, they'd be perfectly fine. And he blames his fragile heart so fucking much. But he can't turn back now. All he can do...is wait for his love to finally dry out and die.

 

********

 

Soft music fills the anxious silence in the waiting room. Through one of he doors to his right Taemin hears the faint noise of a tattoo gun and occasionally a small, pain-filled sigh followed by encouraging words. Two girls sit on the far end of the waiting room, one is holding the hand of the other. Looks like they're planning to get their first ink. They can't be older than eighteen.

Taemin has his face mask pulled up over his nose and a cap on his head that covers all of his hair. He even made the effort to wear completely normal, random, boring clothes to not draw any attention at all. Looks like it worked. The two girls hardly spare him a glance.

He's in Shinjuku, in a tattoo and piercing parlour. However, he's not here to get a tattoo. No, he wants to get another piercing on his ear, a tragus to be precise, and maybe another helix if he feels like it.

He hasn't told his company nor his manager, although contractually he's supposed to tell them as soon as he wants to change his appearance. He hopes that no one will notice, although he knows everyone will. But at this point he just can't bring himself to care. The idea was spontaneous. After his hour-long stay at the practice room he'd gone back to the flat to shower. And then, well...the idea had blossomed in his lovesick mind and he'd immediately called the parlour and they managed to squeeze him in this evening. Good thing piercings don't take too long.

He rubs his cold hands and glances at his phone. His manager tried to call him again. Same goes for the rest of his band members. Even Jongin tried to call him, although EXO is in the midst of preparing their autumn comeback.

Taemin ignores every message except Jongin's. He opens their chat. The last message was send half an hour ago.

_-wtf you doing in Tokyo right now? Are you ill?_

_-not ill, just taking some time off_

He doesn't have to wait long for a reply.

_-you never take time off. What's going on?_

He rolls his eyes.

_-nothing_

_-bullshit_

He puts his phone away as he sees one of the attendants walking up to him. The friendly Japanese woman guides him to another room where he is supposed to takes off his coat, sit down on a chair and take his cap and face mask off. He does it without hesitation, though he eyes her reaction with suspicion. She looks at him for a long moment, but then she just smiles and asks him to wait a little longer. Then she's out of the room and Taemin sighs heavily.

Maybe this is a stupid idea. Maybe he'll regret it tonight. But...well, the ache inside his chest, the constant throbbing in his heart has become so freaking unbearable he'd rather drown it out by a different kind of pain. That's why he's here, that's why he'll let needles pierce his skin again. To give his heart a few blissful moments of peace.

 

********

 

**Minho**

 

He's been waiting for at least fourty minutes now. It's past 9pm and Taemin isn't home yet. Well, he's a grown man and has every right to go wherever he wants and stay for as long a he likes. But it's different if his sole reason to stay wherever he is for as long as he does because he wants to avoid Minho.

He's been avoiding Minho enough. And the older is tired of it. He needs to talk with him.

Minho tries to call him once again when he hears the familiar ding of the elevator doors opening. He looks over, his heart jumping with anticipation – and he thinks it actually stops beating altogether as his and Taemin's eyes lock on each other. His erratic heartbeat is thunder in his ears as he watches the painfully familiar man step out of the elevator, dressed plainly in a coat, hoodie and dark jeans. Minho swallows the lump in his throat and he lets his phone sink.

Taemin is wearing a face mask and a cap again. And just like two days prior, Minho can sense his anxiety perfectly well. Even without seeing the majority of his face, Minho knows that Taemin is grimacing at him.

“Seriously?” Taemin asks with a low growl in his voice as he is close enough.

“Can we talk? Please?” he asks hopefully.

Taemin just scoffs at him and goes to unlock the door. Minho rolls his eyes at the overly dramatic maknae and then gently places a hand on his shoulder only to find the younger noticeably tense up at the contact. The fact has Minho's stomach tighten up.

“I meant it, Taemin. What I said yesterday.”

Taemin glances at him over his shoulder. His eyes are dark, impossibly dark and wide with sadness so grave Minho wants to cry.

“Go home, hyung.”

And with that he slams the door close. Leaving the older man exasperated and alone in the empty corridor on the 9th floor. Well, that went splendidly. Minho sighs and rubs his neck. Then he pulls his phone from his pocket and opens their chat.

_-I'll wait outside_

Because he knows that Taemin needs time to calm down now. And then, maybe...he'll let him in. This went worse than expected, but at least...well, it can't get any worse than it is now, so the only way is up, Minho suspects. He rubs over his throbbing chest and slowly sinks down to the ground next to the door and leans against the wall. He's a patient man when he wants to be.

At some point he's put his earphones in and closed his eyes, so he doesn't hear the door opening again. Only when he feels a foot gently nudging his own, he opens his eyes to see Taemin stand before him. Now he has a blanket draped over his shoulders. His dark hair looks damp and falls into his eyes.

Minho's heart jumps at the sight and in the back of his mind he registers how cute Taemin looks like that. He pulls his earphones out. The younger man looks at him, worrying his lip between his teeth.

And then:

“Were you serious?”

“About what?” Minho asks, although they both know what he's referring to.

Taemin rolls his eyes. “Don't do this. Just say it.” He nudges Minho's foot again.

Minho reaches out a hand and after a moment of hesitation, Taemin takes it. Minho's heart does another dangerous jump at the contact. He decides to push his luck and gently pulls Taemin's hand. The younger man sits down next to him. They let go.

“What if I was serious?” Minho asks.

Taemin rubs his nose and looks away. “I wouldn't believe you.”

“Why not?”

“Because! Because you're – you're just saying it because of yesterday!” Taemin says and then lets out an exasperated sigh. “I mean – why would you even, you're...you're you!”

Minho frowns. “And that means...?”

“You're not even into -”

“Ok, listen,” Minho interrupts. He fixes Taemin's troubled gaze. “It's not like I can – like I can tell you exactly what this is. But see, if – if you'd want me, I'd like us to try.”

Taemin stares at him, his face just screams a mix of hope and dread and anger. “You – this, you – look, this is not something you can just say on a whim!”

“I'm not saying it on a whim,” Minho says with emphasis and grips Taemin's hand. With the other he reaches up and Taemin doesn't flinch away as he gently touches his cheek. “Listen, I've thought about this. And I want us to try.”

 

********

 

**Taemin**

 

His belly should be about to rip open from the millions of butterflies colliding in there. His heart thunders in his ears, his blood rushes through his veins and his skin burns where Minho touches him.

He swallows dryly and he already loves the warm, familiar feel of Minho's palm caressing his cheek. Through their entwined fingers Taemin is sure his hyung can feel the trembling in his body. He can't believe this is happening. Seriously, this must be a dream, an amazing, terrifyingly vivid and authentic dream featuring everything he's hoped would happen. This can't be real, no way, this is so freaking unrealistic and not possible because his friend is definitely not into him and _oh my God..._

But suddenly a shock of pain shoots from his ear into every cell of his body and he lets out a pained gasp and he leans away, out of Minho's grasp. Minho stares at him with wide eyes.

“Oh shit – are you ok?!”

Taemin grits his teeth and gently touches his freshly pierced left ear. He nearly forgot about that. His tragus throbs, same as his ear cartilage. His entire ear feels uncomfortably hot and tender.

“Taemin – since when - ?!”

“Two hours ago,” Taemin sighs.

Minho gently pushes Taemin's hair back to examine his ear. His touch is so gentle Taemin shudders. His hyung's gaze softens with worry and then he looks Taemin in the eyes again. “Did you tell manager-hyung about this?”

Taemin looks away. “No.”

Minho rolls his eyes. “Taemin...”

“Leave it, I'll be fine.”

“They're already angry that you're missing schedules. Do you really wanna piss them off even more?”

“No one will notice.”

The older man shakes his head. “Fans will notice as soon as the first low quality airport pictures of you are gonna appear online.”

“Well then so be it. It's just two piercings, who cares.”

“Alright, nevermind the fans. But even I know that tragus piercings take weeks to heal. How the hell do you want to put in the in-ear-monitors? We got schedules next week.”

Taemin's heart jerks with realisation and the bitter taste of remorse starts to rise inside of him. He internally curses his own stupidity and lack of foresight. He bites his lower lip and remains silent.

He can see that Minho isn't happy, either. “Did you not even think about that?” Minho wants to know.

Taemin starts pulling at the hem of his shirt. “Well...it was kinda spontaneous...”

Minho rubs the bridge of his nose. He looks like he wants to scold Taemin and in this case Taemin could even understand. It was hella stupid after all. He sighs to himself. For a 25-year-old Taemin sure is a piece of work and he knows that. But forethought has never been his strongest forte.

But his worries disappear when Minho's warm palm caresses his cheek again. “Then...try to be careful not to get it infected.”

The seconds slow down when he sees Minho's eyes trail down to his lips and back up again. He sees adoration in his eyes, he sees nervousness and most of all he sees questions, a dozen questions flickering in his warm gaze. They're so close all of a sudden, Taemin hasn't even noticed how their legs and shoulders are pressed together, but now he feels it, feels their contact everywhere along his body and it's too much. He forgets the throbbing pain and his concern over his manager's reaction. It's all just wiped away from his mind when he realises how close they are.

Minho's familiar scent fills his nose, and he just can't help it, his gaze wanders from his hyung's kind eyes to his perfect lips pulled into a smile. His ribs crack from the wild jumping of his heart. He forgets to breathe.

And then Minho leans in.

The first contact is so faint he thinks it's a dream. Colour explodes in front of his eyes and a tremor rocks him from his very core to every last cell of his body. The kiss lasts a heartbeat, and then they pull away and he expects to wake up form this dream, to find himself lonely and quiet in his bed. But no. He sees Minho smiling at him, light radiating from him, and Taemin can't help but smile back, despite his confusion, despite his disbelief and doubts, his heart is filled with fuzzy, gigantic, fragile happiness.

“...Did it feel good for you?” Minho whispers, his eyes wandering back down to Taemin's lips. His fingers are so hot on his skin. “Taemin?”

He nods, because he might've forgotten how language works. But apparently that is all the confirmation Minho needs.

The second kiss is a tidal wave of liquid gold drowning the last of his rationality. He _breathes_ Minho in, and he hears soft laughter, light with relief, and then the pressure increases, although he doesn't know if it's himself or the older man. But he knows that their lips are moving against each other, gently, carefully and although the touch is so innocent, he feels his greed already demanding more, demanding _deeper_ and more, _more, hyung -_

“Haa....” He sighs when Minho's tongue licks over his lips and he readily opens up and lets him in.

The kiss is hot, so perfect, so much better than Taemin would imagine in his shy dreams in the deep of the night, and shit, he's already addicted. Addicted to Minho's lips on his own, his hands in Taemin's hair and around his waist, his warmth heating him up in all the right places.

When they pull apart, Taemin feels like floating and he stupidly smiles at the older man, who looks just as dazed as he feels. It's also becoming too hot underneath the blanket, so Taemin shrugs it off.

Minho leans forward and gives him a chaste kiss to his cheek, before he whispers: “Shall we go inside?”

Because, yes, they're still very much sitting like the two lovestruck losers they are in this lonely corridor on the 9th floor. Taemin laughs and nods. Gripping Minho's hand he stands up and pulls the older man to his feet.

But as soon as the door closes, he finds himself trapped in a hot embrace and his back is pressed against Minho's broad chest. He giggles and feels the hot breath ghosting over his neck and then his hyung's gorgeous lips by the ear that isn't hurting. He closes his eyes because this new, fresh, fragile happiness is too blinding for him.

“I'm glad to have you back,” Minho whispers.

He blinks his eyes open again, his heart faltering for a moment, before he turns around in Minho's arms to look at him.

“I'm sorry,” he mumbles, and he means it. He claws his hands into Minho's coat. “You know, I was a total dick to you -”

But Minho, bless his heart, just smiles and shakes his head. “It's ok. There's nothing to apologise for.”

They smile at each other and than Minho leans down again, but Taemin is too impatient and pulls at his collar to pull him right into the next kiss that leaves him dizzy and breathless and _craving_ more.

 

********

 

**Minho**

 

He wakes up with a smile and swollen lips. He blinks into shy sunlight dancing through the curtain on his left. He didn't even change his clothes after returning to the hotel and his shirt still smells like Taemin.

They'd continued to make out in Taemin's flat – fairly innocently though, hands above the belt – and they'd talked. A lot, actually. Taemin had told him about his misery the past few months, and the fear of not being able to be friends with Minho anymore if Minho found out. And Minho had just hugged the slender man to his chest, his heart tight with emotion.

Damn it, he should've done something much sooner. But no, it only takes Taemin running away to Japan and Key basically kicking his ass out the door to Tokyo to make the two of them admit their feelings.

He laughs to himself and runs a hand through his hair. Man, how things can change in just twelve yours. Amazing, truly. He glances at the time. He'll take Taemin out for their very first date today. And he'll make sure it'll be the best date ever.

 

********

 

They have a great laugh at a recently opened horror house at Tokyo Dome City named Onryou Zashiki. The effects are pretty nice, and although neither of them are scared by such things, they have a splendid time at the spooky attraction.

Later they make their way to Akihabara to spend too much money in a game station with video games available from the basement up to the fifth floor. Minho also wins his beautiful date a cute fluffy dog-like pillow – in pearl aqua colour, of course. It takes him twenty attempts and at least 3000 yen to get the damned thing out of the machine, but seeing Taemin's smile while handing it to him made the effort worthwhile, definitely.

Taemin also pulls him into these 3D-capsules where you can blast your way through a dungeon of zombies. The sound is so loud Minho's teeth vibrate, and they're both not really good at it – but as the game is over, they remain seated in the relative darkness of the capsule, and like led by gravity, Minho's lips are back on Taemin's.

As they step outside into the evening, Minho thinks that he hasn't been this happy in a long time.

They make their way to Shibuya and he treats the maknae to one of the the best Ramen places in the city, at least according to Google. They've been there before, he knows the portions are huge – and their bills even more so, usually – but in the past they've always had an amazing time there. It's warm, cosy, very Japanese and the food is beyond delicious. He grins as Taemin's eyes become as huge as the bowl that is placed before him, and his heart jumps when their gazes meet.

“You know, one won't be enough,” Taemin warns him playfully.

“I know,” he replies with a smirk. “Order as much as you want.”

He sniffs and sighs. “Fuck, this smells so good. You'll regret it, hyung.”

His credit card certainly will, but he just shakes his head and winks at him: “Not if it's for you.”

Taemin grimaces. “Man, you're cheesy.”

God, he just fucking adores this brat.

They stumble back to Taemin's apartment with warm, full bellies, loads of bags full with merch and other shit, and considerably lighter wallets. They drop their stuff in the hallway and Minho's arms fly forward to tickle Taemin's sides.

God, that laughter, notes of silver filling the air. Taemin catches his hands and wraps them around his waist, and his own rope around Minho's neck. They grin at each other, hearts beating so quickly and shamelessly it would be embarrassing, if it wasn't for the two of them out-doing their hearts with their own stupid antics.

“Hyung is so mean to me today,” Taemin says playfully. He is just joking, and Minho plays along.

“Yeah, I was a horrible hyung...buying you food, buying you presents, buying you clothes...,” he sighs theatrically. “I should leave the band.”

“That's right...go and finish your degree already,” Taemin laughs and cranes his neck. Minho gets the hint and leans down and captures his lips in a sweet kiss that doesn't last nearly as long as he wants it to.

“Rich coming from you,” he smirks and claims Taemin's lips again.

The thing is, although he considered today a date, it hasn't been like...well, like what other people would likely consider a date. He knows Taemin so well, he is one of his closest friends, he knows his thoughts, his dreams and fears, he's studied his character over the past years and they've grown so close...a date, however, is usually about getting to know a person, Minho assumes.

In this case their date had been more of a chance of getting closer again, after the endless months of doubts and dread making them drift apart. Minho still can't believe he let it get this far in the first place. He should've solved the whole issue a long time ago. But alas, here they are now, just the two of them, in Tokyo.

Their hearts open and naked for each other in every way possible.

He feel soft fingers carding through his hair and he likes the feel of it so much he pushes into Taemin's touch like an oversized cat. He hears Taemin's delighted chuckle and then they pull apart.

“You're messing up my hair,” he scolds affectionately.

“It was messy to begin with,” Taemin replies cheekily. “And it's gotten so long.”

“Leave hyung's hair alone – hey OUCH,” he yelps as his favourite brat starts pulling at the strands. Out of revenge, Minho tackles Taemin onto the sofa and tickles his sides until the younger man squirms underneath him, giggling so hard he forgets to breath.

He captures Taemin's wrists and pins them to the sofa next to his head. He is careful to stay far away from Taemin's freshly pierced ear, though. He's not being forceful, just vigorous enough to not let him anywhere near his hair again. Taemin smugly grins up at him, a faint blush on his cheeks, and his dark eyes bright and wild.

Minho's heart jerks inside his chest and for a moment he forgets to speak as he tries to deal with the storm of emotion going off inside of him. God, he just adores him.

“Hyung's hair looks nice like that,” Taemin grins.

“And that's why you're pulling at it?” Minho replies and rolls his eyes. He leans down and brushes his lips against Taemin's. “Such a brat.”

Taemin just proudly smiles at him and leans up to kiss him.

 

********

 

The following days pass like a dream. They spend their time together, they talk, they laugh, they joke around, they enjoy each other's company either with sound or with silence – it's almost like the bad never happened, like there was never a drift between them.

But whenever Minho leans in to steal a kiss or two or twenty and Taemin kisses back with eagerness, he knows that things have indeed changed.

For the better, that's for sure.

It's their last night in Tokyo. Tomorrow evening they'll fly back to Seoul, together this time, though. Their band members are already waiting for them. And in order to prevent the worst complaints, Minho lets them know beforehand that him and Taemin made up. And that their relationship has switched gears in some ways. The reactions had been...well, better than he'd hoped, but he'll have to do some more explaining once they're home.

But that's something he can worry about tomorrow. For now, however...

“I think at this point you've snatched like half my wardrobe,” Minho grins as he looks at Taemin, who sits on Minho's hotel bed, freshly showered and dressed in shorts and one of Minho's shirts that is way too big for him.

“Yeah, I think that's actually true,” Taemin agrees with a smirk and falls backwards into the pillows, phone in hand.

The shirt slips down one shoulder and reveals milky pale skin with a golden hue and a sharp collarbone casting a shadow over the small expanse of chest that is visible.

Minho's eyes glide down the slender frame and when he looks the man in the eyes again, he can tell that the younger has followed his gaze. His smirk has become even more smug. “Not like you're complaining, I guess?”

“Yeah, no...got no reason to complain,” Minho agrees and climbs onto the bed with him. He stretches out beside him and playfully tugs at Taemin's dark strands of hair. “You know I like it.”

“Hyung's not being subtle about it,” Taemin grins and puts his phone away.

He sinks deeper into the pillows and blinks up at him, a content expression gracing his handsome features. He looks so much better than the day when they'd met here in Tokyo. His skin is glowing again and the fire is back in his eyes, he is bratty and silly and funny and fills every second of Minho's day with light.

Man, he's missed him.

He trails his fingers from Taemin's hair to the prominent collarbone and lightly tickles the soft skin. Taemin giggles and captures his hand. They look at each other and a moment later Minho feels the pull, his very own gravitational force pulling him close, right where he wants to be.

He's pulled in until his lips are against Taemin's.

The first touch is like a spark, a tingling feeling soon growing into a frequency that vibrates through his veins, all the way to his core and speeds up his heartbeat until he hears it rushing in his ears. Taemin's lips are so soft against his own, so warm and perfect, and they kiss him in a way that is not unlike when Taemin dances. Light right now, elegant and controlled, but there's that promise for _deeper_ and _wilder_ and _more_.

More _everything_.

He sensually moves his lips against Taemin's, he savours the touch until his skin yearns for more and he licks over the younger man's lips. Taemin hums with approval and opens up, letting him in, and he's greeted with a warm, playful tongue that makes him smile as he deepens the kiss. Their tongues dance around each other, gently and slowly, but becoming braver with every second.

He feels Taemin's fingers claw into his shirt and pulling him closer. He gladly obeys and moves between Taemin's slightly spread legs, his hand trails through Taemin's hair and then down his neck to hold him, and his other arm wraps around his slim waist.

“Haah...” Taemin sighs as he pulls him even closer, until their chests are flush against each other and their thundering hearts beat in sync. Minho's tongue dives deep to explore the hot, velvet cavern.

As they break apart, Taemin's breath is hot and laboured, tickling over his skin. Minho smiles down at him before he leans back down and his lips find their way too Taemin's throat, and he starts to kiss and worship the tender flesh with possessive vigour to leave red traces of his adoration on his lover's skin.

He hears Taemin hum above him, and slender hands run through his hair and down his neck, up and down, until the talented fingers glide to the front and Minho grins when he notices the younger man hiking his shirt up to get a nice feel of Minho's abs.

He sucks another mark into Taemin's skin and then leans back up, his eyes meeting Taemin's cheeky gaze.

“Someone's impatient.”

“Someone's _slow_.”

He snorts and claims Taemin's lips in a heated kiss, before he leans back and pulls his shirt over his head. He tosses it into the far corner of his room and as soon as his skin is revealed, Taemin's hands are everywhere, sliding across his chest and abs and claiming it as his new playground.

“Haa...”

This time it's Minho who can't help but let a pleasant sigh escape his throat as he feels the tender fingertips run sensually over his naked skin and leaving a trail of burning hot lava in their wake. The younger man might be clumsy and forgetful and prone to lose things – but his hands are no joke, and soon turn his skin into a pulsing mess. Taemin explores every crevice of his abs, he traces the lines of Minho's pecs and the older man can't help but close his eyes at the delicious feeling. Goosebumps form on his arms and he leans right into those talented hands.

He feels soft lips press against his jaw and then a hot tongue gingerly licking over his skin, before sharp teeth sink in deep.

He lets Taemin have his way for a few moments that make his heart twist and squeeze inside his chest, before he trails his hand into Taemin's hair and gently, but insistently pulls him away to put them both on eye level. He can practically _feel_ the hickey blossoming on his throat.

Taemin smugly blinks up at him.

“What?”

“Possessive, aren't we?” Minho asks in a low voice.

“Rich coming from you.”

He's not wrong. There is already a delicious path of crimson marks leading from Taemin's pulse point down to his collarbones. His lips are swollen red and his hair tousled, his skin is practically shining and Minho is stunned for a moment and he wonders how a human being can be so beautiful.

“That's true,” he whispers and leans down to brush his lips against Taemin's. Taemin wants to deepen the kiss, but he pulls away and promptly sees an adorable pout gracing Taemin's features. “But it's not for me. Not for anyone else. Just for you.”

“What do you mean?”

He leans down and kisses him again. “So that you won't forget that this is real.”

 

********

 

**Taemin**

 

His heart loses its rhythm for a moment, before it speeds up even more and he feels the rapid drumming in his throat and in his ears and all the way into every last cell of his body. He closes his eyes as they kiss once again, and lightning strikes behind his eyelids. He is shaking.

How is this even real? Him, together with the most amazing man he can imagine, in Tokyo, in a hotel bed, and kissing like there's no tomorrow.

_How do these things happen?_

He muses, his thoughts scattered and disoriented, because Minho's lips and tongue steal his sanity from him, and leave his head a cloudy, hazy mess filled with nothing but Minho's name and the feel of his bare skin beneath Taemin's hands.

“Haah...Hyung...,” he breathes when those talented hands slip underneath his shirt to run expertly across his pulsing skin. His abdomen quivers when Minho's fingers are everywhere, sliding over his sides, his pecs, his abs – all the places he touches crave for more, for _closer_ , but then these hands are gone, gripping the hem of his shirt, and Taemin can't hurry enough to get the offending piece of clothing off of his body. Yet, despite their urgency, Minho takes care not to touch Taemin's pierced ear. His consideration makes Taemin's chest swell with adoration.

As soon as his upper body is bared, Minho is everywhere, his hands are everywhere at the same time and tear tiny, throaty breaths from him, coloured with his want for more. Heat pools low in his stomach, and he moves his legs even further apart, to give the older man better access, and his hyung complies. His hyung pushes his hips forward and suddenly the front of Minho's jeans is pressed right against Taemin's crotch. The thin shorts do nothing to hide the obvious bulge in his trousers and Taemin's breathing hitches.

Oh fuck, this is real.

Minho pulls away only so much that he can whisper: “You ok?”

He needs a moment to find his voice and reply: “Yeah, of course.”

Minho experimentally rocks his hips against his own and he hisses at the delicious friction.

He does it again and fuck, his jeans are tight, he needs to get these off -

They both stop in their tracks when their phones nearly simultaneously start ringing with incoming calls. Minho stares down at Taemin and meets an annoyed expression he finds so funny he has to stifle his laughter.

“Leave it,” Taemin grumbles.

Minho dives down for another kiss but the relentless ringing doesn't stop, so he sighs and sits up. A flicker of worry starts to simmer in his stomach. With an apologetic look at Taemin he reaches for his phone. It's Jinki – no, now it's one of their managers calling him.

He frowns and answers the call.

“Yeah?”

“Where are you?” their manager asks instead of a greeting.

“Still in Tokyo. I'm flying back tomorrow, why?”

“You're flying back tonight.”

“What – why?”

He hears traffic in the background so Minho assumes their manager whom they call Youngmin-hyung is on the road. There is something in his voice that makes Minho's chest grow tight with concern.

“Is everything ok?”

He hears Youngmin sigh. “I don't know. Your flight is at 1am tonight from Haneda airport. I send the flight details to you and Taemin so tell him to pack up.”

With that he hangs up and leaves Minho staring at his phone, a cold feeling of growing dread wiping his lust out of his mind.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed it. Thank you for reading. Please leave kudos and/or comments xx
> 
> If you'd like to chat with me about this story or SHINee or anything else really, feel free to contact me through tumblr: http://wysteryas.tumblr.com/
> 
> It's my K-pop blog, with the main focus on SHINee, EXO and Seventeen. So if you'd like to chat with me about K-pop, this story or anything else, please feel free to contact me there.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed it. Thank you for reading. Please leave kudos and/or comments xx
> 
> If you'd like to chat with me about this story or SHINee or anything else really, feel free to contact me through tumblr:  
> http://wysteryas.tumblr.com/
> 
> It's my K-pop blog, with the main focus on SHINee, EXO and Seventeen. So if you'd like to chat with me about K-pop, this story or anything else, please feel free to contact me there.


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